NoWin Scenario
by JadeMac2442
Summary: Slight slash. K/S The Klingon empire is desperate to restore its image after the loss of its battle fleet, to this end they capture Kirk, and hold him prisoner. Its up to the crew of the Enterprise to save him, unless he can save himself first.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I'm not making any money on this.

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_No-Win Scenario_

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The away mission had been a disaster. The entire diplomatic convention had been a hoax. It had all been a trap for James Tiberius Kirk. The captain had enough time to briefly wonder why he was so effective at making enemies. Why did they always have to be the psychotic ones bent on personal vendettas? Why were they always after him?

The landing party was pinned down by phaser fire. They were wedged against solid rock, huddled together against the cliff wall. There was little shelter. There was nowhere to go, no way to win. They could not beam up due to the ion interference of the strange planet's surface, and they could not make it back to the shuttle. They were completely stuck. More than half the landing party had been injured in some way. Three of the crewmen Scotty had sent along from engineering were dead. All told, the seven people that remained alive with Kirk in the landing party were not doing well. The Klingons were slowly picking them off. Kirk could see no way out of their current situation. Spock and McCoy were both with him. While the death of any crew member would hurt him, Kirk was not sure that he could bear to see one of his best friends die in this way.

A quick call to the _Enterprise_ confirmed that the ship was suffering under similar conditions. Scotty was facing off against three Klingon warbirds which had decloaked just as the landing party had arrived on the planet. Scotty could handle them a little while, indeed, if things got too hot, he could always leave orbit and return for them later. It was the survival of the landing party that worried the captain now.

For the first time in his life, James Kirk was thinking of surrender as a possible option.

"Captain Kirk!" Jim was surprised to hear that the hail came not from one of the officers behind him but from one of the people in front. The shout was accompanied by a cease fire on the part of the forces opposite. "Captain Kirk! Surrender, Captain."

Kirk looked anxiously at his crew. Some shook their heads, minutely. All were silent. Their expressions were resigned, determined. They preferred death to imprisonment and possible torture. They had accepted their fate. Death was better. If only there was some way he could save some of them, even just two of them…. Kirk made no answer to the Klingon's hail.

"If you will not surrender, Captain, then perhaps there is agreement we could reach?" The speaker shouted came again.

"What do you want?" he shouted back. There couldn't be harm in asking. The Klingons could have killed them all by now, by rights should have killed them all by now, so there was obviously something the others wanted. And if there was something they wanted, then some sort of arrangement could be reached.

"You, captain. Only you," came the Klingon's gruff reply. Well, that was interesting. Yeah, he always made enemies of the psychos.

"I suggest a small trade, captain. You for all of them. I will allow your landing party to leave; no more of your people will die. Our ships will stand down. I will allow the _Enterprise_ to go. You… are all we want." Kirk was too speechless to respond. "I will let you think on it," the Klingon said as he withdrew. "I give you one hour."

McCoy and Spock spoke at once. "Jim." "Captain." He turned back to face them, knowing already what they were about to say. His two friends exchanged glances, and by some unspoken mutual agreement, McCoy allowed Spock to speak first. "Captain, you must not allow yourself to become a hostage. You have great value to Starfleet, and to the Federation. We cannot afford to lose so notable a figure in such a manner. It would be…demoralizing. Likewise, Captain, you are a commander of unparalleled ability, and as such are irreplaceable. You cannot be allowed to sacrifice yourself in such a manner. The magnitude of the loss would be incalculable."

Jim allowed his lips to quirk upward into his trademark smirk. "Incalculable, Spock? Really? I didn't know how much you cared." Though he allowed no emotion show on his face, Jim was moved by Spock's comments. He knew his first officer respected him. But Spock seldom voiced it. The friendship that existed between them had been tenuous at first, but over time had blossomed into something meaningful for both of them. And lately, Kirk had begun to wonder if his own feelings for his first had developed into something more than friendship. He had not spoken of it. Would not speak of it. Spock deserved better. But still the man's comments warmed him to the core.

McCoy's comments followed soon after. "Jim, you can't go with them. They'll torture you. You'll die."

_But you won't. Neither of you_.

Kirk found he could not answer Bones. He would be tortured. And likely, he would die. If he was very, very, lucky, it might even be quick. He could think of nothing else to say to Spock either. The Vulcan was right; he was always right. The first officer's arguments were always perfectly logically thought out. They just didn't work in every situation. Like this one.

Kirk knew already that he would accept the Klingon's terms. Knew this was his only option to save any of their lives. And for a moment, he remembered Christopher Pike-before the Captain went aboard the Narada, remembered pleading with man to understand he would be tortured for all he knew. Kirk still remembered the exact look on Pike's face when the Captain spat that he _hoped_ the Romulans would torture him, because every minute he distracted them was another minute he could give the _Enterprise_. Kirk now knew, in Pike's place-he'd do the same thing. Was going to do it, in fact.

The Klingon's had given him an hour to make this decision. He didn't need it. The decision had been made as soon as the Klingon's had pinned down his ship and his crew. Whoever they were, they knew him well.

Through his reverie, Captain Kirk became aware that Spock was speaking to him again. "Captain, it is likely that the only reason they desire you is because you are a hero to the Federation. It is possible that they may accept a substitute in your place. I request permission-"

"Denied, Spock."

He would not allow Spock to do it. Spock was more useful to Starfleet, Jim knew this. Believed it with all his being. Spock was a better officer, a better man. Everyone thought that Jim had the biggest ego in the galaxy, and in some ways, he did. But his life was not worth Spock's, not worth any of the lives he'd lost already. He enunciated his answer carefully. "I will not allow you to take my place."

"I could remain with you, Jim. Two may perhaps escape more easily than one." Spock's logically phrased answer did not conceal the concern felt by the first officer.

"No, Commander. No more discussion. You are to get my crew and my ship to safety. Their safety comes before mine. That's an order. One Starfleet captain's a small price to pay for more than 400 lives." And not for the first time in their career together, Kirk was grateful that Spock was a Vulcan, and that his face betrayed no emotion at the order he'd just been given. The captain did not think he could bear to make the decision before him, if he had to hear Spock's voice break again.

"Damn it, Jim!" Despite himself, Jim grinned at the doctor's familiar words. McCoy always used them when he was frustrated. "There's got to be another way," the doctor continued.

Jim wondered if the next captain of the Enterprise would get to hear "Dammit" as often as he himself had. He was not sure anyone, except possibly for Spock, could be so effective at pissing off the doctor.

"There isn't, Bones. I'm sorry; there just isn't." He avoided looking at his best friend's face because McCoy did not have Spock's control, and Jim wasn't sure if handle any more than what he already had to face.

But if he was going to do this, then damn it, he was going to be Jim Kirk about it. He squared his shoulders and stepped from the rock they've been sheltering behind into the open.

"Klingon Commander! I accept your terms."

There are gasps from the rest of the people with him, a shout of "Captain, no!" that he barely heard, mingled with exclaims of triumph from the Klingon's. Kirk noticed little of this though. He concentrated very hard on tuning out everyone else.

He had eyes for only one person.

The Klingon before him wore a smile that froze Jim's blood. It's not big; it's small and almost predatory. "A wise decision, Captain Kirk."

Kirk stared hard into the Klingon's eyes. "I have your word my ship will be safe?"

The Klingon nodded, "and your landing party also. "

But Kirk needed actual confirmation, needed to know they will be all right before he could make this sacrifice. The Klingon seemed to understand him, however. "Captain Kirk, I will permit you to see your men to their shuttle, and to contact your ship, if you give me your word you will not attempt to escape, no matter what happens until they have gone."

That seemed to be the best assurance he would get from these people. "Done." Kirk only hoped that one day Spock and McCoy will forgive him.

"I require a test of your word, captain," said the Klingon. Yeah, they would.

He gestured that Kirk walk forward, and took one of the captain's hands in his own. Without preamble the Klingon broke the first two fingers on the captain's hand. Kirk started, but otherwise remained still, his left hand still in the other's grasp. He had not cried out. Nor did he move away. He moved his free hand, impatiently waving off Spock, who had started forward, coming to his captain's defense,

The Klingon's eyes held something bordering… on respect? "Very well, Captain, I will take you at your word. Your crew, your ship are welcome to leave. But understand that I will torture them personally, and make you watch, should you break your promise."

"Jim, please reconsider." That's from Bones.

Kirk put up a hand to forestall them both. He was flattered. Kirk knew they cared about him, knew that he meant more to them than just as their ship commander. But right now, that's the only role that he has room for, the only hat he can afford to wear. He had to do this.

"No, Spock, Bones, no. Just get my ship, my crew, and yourselves to safely. Just go. I'm counting on you."

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My first fic ever. Please be nice. Read and review.

Betaed by the fabulous 1lostone.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. I'm not making any money on this.

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Disclaimer: I still do not own Star Trek. I'm working on it. When I win the lottery, it will be the first thing I buy.

EDIT and repost. Now with beta. Thanks Jess.

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His fingers ached. Bones kept trying to fuss over them, but Jim would not allow him to fix them. The captain figured their Klingon escorts might get a little frisky if someone interfered with his treatment. Besides, it didn't matter. His hand didn't hurt enough to supersede the relief in his heart. His crew would be safe. His first officer and his CMO were not being taken to be tortured beside him. It was selfish of him, he knew, but he was glad he would not have to endure the sight of that. He was not sure that he could bear it. He cared so much about them both.

Jim walked beside Spock and McCoy. The three were flanked on either side by a Klingon. Each Klingon held a disruptor that was trained, not on Kirk, but on McCoy or Spock. Their captors had made it clear that any attempt to overpower them would result in the immediate deaths of the entire landing party. Kirk walked as slowly as the Klingons allowed him, weighing his options, his mind moving at a million miles a minute. There had to be a way out of this.

But this was the only way that he could guarantee both their safety and the safety of the Enterprise. The decision made, he gained a small amount of peace.

He allowed himself the small pleasure of staring at his friends, knowing this might be the last time he saw them. He had to fight to swallow over the small lump that formed in his throat at that thought.

They were so very different, and yet so very alike. A matched set of bodyguards. They were both silent, both fuming with frustration at their situation. He saw it easily in the drawn lines around McCoy's mouth and brow, the set of the doctor's lips. A small twitch was going in his jaw. Spock was harder to read. He always had been. But the set of the Vulcan's shoulders indicated tension that was not usually so evident in his controlled, logical form. Kirk hadn't seen that kind of fire in his first officer's eyes since the encounter with Nero.

Spock carried the most wounded crewman, an ensign, a blond woman from the science section. Disrupter blast to the stomach: serious but stable, according to Bones. Kirk wracked his brain for her name. Something Will…Williamson, Mary. From the Mars colonies.

It had taken Kirk just over three weeks to learn the names of all 413 people under his command. He had learned their names, learned their service records. Attempted to learn their hobbies and interests. He had set up personal meetings with every single one of them - all for nothing. He wasn't going to see them again. He wished that he had time to tell them, to explain. How many of them would not understand, would think he had abandoned them? Maybe the landing party would explain-unless they thought the same thing? No. _No_. These few would understand. Perhaps in time, they would all forgive him.

Spock and Bones, well that was another story.

Kirk stared at the horizon. He did not have the courage to look his friends in the eyes. Would he see anger or pity? Either way, Jim was not sure that he could bear it. For two years, he'd been living a dream. Captain of the _Enterprise_, Starfleet's flagship. Youngest captain ever with the finest crew in this or any galaxy. Had he ever told them how he was proud of them? Damn it. He wished he had more time. Did Bones know how much he'd meant to Jim? Did Spock… _Spock_. Kirk should have told him... No. Do _not_ think about that now. It's not like it's ever gonna matter. _Focus_. Get them to safety.

He just wanted it to be over with. It would be easier once it started. This slow march to his death was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but he needed to see it through, to see for himself that his crew would make it safe to the ship.

His headache matched the pain in his hand.

Spock was struggling to control his anger at the futility of the situation. He would not give up the captain willingly. James Kirk was his captain; it was Spock's duty to defend him to his own death. He had long ago pledged his life and loyalty to his commanding officer, but he would have done this for Jim even if he had not been the captain. His respect of the captain had grown over the year they had worked together. The man was completely illogical. But he was fascinating. His chess skill alone had been worthy of significant study. The captain had a mesmerizing intellect. Spock considered the man a friend of worth. And despite all odds, he cared for Jim.

He did not wish to see Jim sacrifice himself to save the other six here. Spock found himself of the opinion that the life of the captain of the _Enterprise_ was worth six others. He further thought that the life of James Kirk, savior of the Federation might be worth the lives of several others. How many lives had Jim saved in the last year? How many had been saved during the _Narada_ incident alone? Eight billion? Ten billion? _Narada_ had not been the only time Kirk had saved a world. There had been many others. Twice now, Jim had saved the known universe. Once he had saved the time stream-at great personal loss. Spock had not been exaggerating when he told Jim that his loss would be incalculable. Spock had attempted and found he could not calculate the odds of Starfleet finding another commander of the captain's ability. Nor could he face the calculations of what losing Jim Kirk would mean to him personally. He had not felt such uncontrollable emotion since the day his mother had died.

But Spock he could see no way to escape the state of affairs logically. The _Enterprise_ was outmatched against three war birds. The ship, under normal circumstances, would emerge successful from an encounter with any one Klingon cruiser. Against two of them, the odds were smaller but still favorable. However, the _Enterprise_ had only an eight percent chance of emerging mostly unscathed from an encounter with three. Neither Kirk nor Starfleet regulations would allow harm to come to the ship or the 400 people aboard, if the price was seven lives.

The seven members of the landing party were outnumbered by the fifteen men at the Klingon commander's disposal. Most of those in the landing party were injured which dramatically decreased their possibility of surmounting the Klingon guards.

Spock had calculated the odds of being able to the escape the scenario with only minor further injuries to the landing party at nearly 60,974 to 1. Major injuries to everyone including himself, excepting the captain, was 25,898 to 1. And Jim would be angry, not that that figured into his calculations. Spock had factored in the death of every crewman except the captain and was still unable to come out with a favorable solution. The risk to the ship and the captain were too high to warrant action. So Spock walked on, lost in his calculations.

Once they reached the area where they had left the shuttle, Spock paused to look at James Kirk. There was little enough written in the captain's face. For a human, the man did a remarkable job at concealing his emotion when he did not wish to be read. Nothing showed in the blue depths of his eyes.

Spock passed the still form of Mary Williams to two of the crewmen boarding the shuttle, knowing they would see her strapped in safely. They worked with her in the science section. Kirk stopped them briefly, speaking to them in low tones. Spock could make out that the captain was offering them reassurance. The captain managed a smile and what sounded like a joke as well. The Vulcan lifted his eyebrow in surprise. James Kirk was about to be taken to torture, perhaps to death, and still he showed no fear. Any other human … Spock stopped himself. Jim was not any other human.

McCoy had made no attempt to board the shuttle. The captain was looking at him with a coy smile. For a moment, a flair of jealousy drove through Spock, but he suppressed it. Leonard McCoy had known the captain much longer than he himself had. Now was not the time for such petty human emotions. The two men needed time to grieve. Spock stood apart, uncertain. He did not wish to intrude upon their private farewells, but he had his own to consider.

"Well, Bones. I guess, this is it." Their conversation followed the logical pattern. The captain spoke first; he was again leaping in where others would hesitate. Spock chastised himself. He too was hesitating.

"Dammit, Jim-" Spock lost the rest of the doctor's reply in the start of the shuttlecraft's engines. But he did see Kirk smile at the response. It was the full smile-the one that always threatened to break down Spock's defenses and steal his breath when Jim turned its light upon the Vulcan. Whatever McCoy had said, it had been pleasing to the captain. McCoy held out his hand to the captain. Kirk looked at it, then took it and embraced him like a brother. The two stayed that way a long moment, then slowly pulled apart.

The doctor brushed past Spock, and the commander could see that McCoy's eyes were wet, and that he was surreptitiously trying to hide it.

He turned back to his commanding officer. The eyes of James Kirk showed only affection in their sapphire depths. He still revealed no pain, no fear. Spock wanted, illogically, to embrace the captain also. Vulcans were touch telepaths. Spock wanted to feel the other man, to truly know if the human felt no fear, or if he only betrayed none. But the Vulcan did not move from where he was standing.

"Captain," he said.

"It's Jim, Spock. Jim. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Jim? I'd think now, when I'm about to die, you could at least honor my wishes."

"Very well, sir. Jim."

Spock heard a faint chuckle from the human at his response. "Spock, I-" Jim's voice broke. "I- you…you've been the best first officer a man could ask for. I'm so glad you came aboard the _Enterprise_. You're the best man I know. I thought I oughta tell you."

"Jim, I would say the same of you."

To his alarm, Spock saw the effect his words had on the captain. Jim's eyes shone briefly before they turned sharply away and his face contorted with distress. How? How could such a simple statement have the effect that no amount of fear and intimidation had yet had? But as soon as the moment began, it ended. Kirk took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and lifted his head. Every emotion bar stoic resolve had fled from his eyes.

"Jim, what will happen to you?" Spock could think of nothing else to say.

"Dunno, Mr. Spock." And then he smiled. "Guess you're just gonna have to come and get me. Careful with the ship, Spock, she's brand new."

Spock's eidetic memory immediately reproduced the conversation with Christopher Pike from which Jim quoted. He knew why quoting it had made the captain smile. He remembered how the men around him, including Kirk, had seemed so buoyed by it. He had disliked James Kirk then, thinking him reckless, brash and arrogant. That was not the case now.

"I will endeavor to return the Enterprise undamaged, sir."

Kirk nodded.

Two of the Klingons flanking the party drew closer to the captain at some unspoken signal. Each stepped within the captain's personal space, and none too gently took him by the arm. Spock saw him Kirk tense and thought the captain would instinctively try to throw them off, as he often did when faced with any form of constraint. But Jim did not throw them off. Instead, Kirk's face collapsed in resignation, and he allowed the restraint.

"You-Vulcan, come here." The Klingon's statement was not a request. This was the one who had earlier broken Jim's fingers. He was obviously the most senior officer of the Klingons present. Spock turned from the hatchway to the shuttle, his long strides quickly making up the distance between himself and the speaker. Unsure of the other's purpose, Spock walked back towards the men holding his captain.

"If you make any attempt to rescue Kirk, if there are any losses to my crew, I will take my retribution from his flesh." The Klingon leader drew back and hit the captain hard in the solar plexuses. The impact doubled Kirk over; he would have fallen if not for the guards. The Klingon punched the captain again, harder, this time in the bladder. The next punch was to the captain's face. It was followed by several others to the captain's chest and face. James Kirk went limp in the arms of his captors. "Do you understand me?"

Spock nodded. No emotion showed on the tranquil mask that was his face, with the exception of the fire that flashed in his eyes. "Perfectly," he said.

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* "embraced him like a brother"-small shout out to JK Rowling, who used this phrase in that exact order in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I still do not own Star Trek. I am, however, very happy to take the characters and play with them for a little while. I will return them. They may not be entirely unscathed.

Still Slash(ish).

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Spock piloted the shuttle. He did not need to; there were many qualified pilots among the landing party survivors. He was however, the most fit and least injured, therefore, he was the most logical candidate. The little ships original pilot had been among the first causalities of the battle with the Klingons. His Vulcan half insisted that he should allow someone else the responsibility of flying the ship, so that he could focus exclusively on the problem of retrieving the captain. But his human half needed something for his hands to do.

_His saw again the Klingons take the arms of his captain. Saw Jim's shoulders slump in defeat. And he heard again the barest whimper that had escaped Kirk's lips at the first punch to his chest. It was the only sound Kirk had made during his beating. A human would not have been able to hear it. Spock thought the memory might have been easier if Kirk had screamed. The tiny sob clung to his ears. Spock was certain he would hear that sound for the rest of his life. _

Spock had seen the seen James Kirk beaten before. Indeed, Spock had beaten the captain before. He felt a twinge of regret at the memory, even now. It was somewhat ironic that the last time he had seen the captain beaten with such devastating savagery, he been himself the aggressor. The man was irritatingly fragile. He was often injured, easily injured in fact. _All too human_. But always before, the man had fought back. It was something which Spock found fascinating about the man. He never gave up. He fought in all circumstances, against all odds. Even during the memory that he just called up. Nearly any other man would not have dared engage a Vulcan, who was three times stronger than any human. But not only had Kirk begun the fight, he had not run from it. He had fought even when he had no hope of wining. But still he fought. And usually, he won.

But not this time.

McCoy stood in the back of the little shuttle ensuring that everyone was adequately strapped in. He then moved up to sit beside Spock in the co-pilot chair. Spock was aware that the doctor did not possess the necessary qualifications to sit in the adjacent seat, but he did not comment upon it. The doctor was in need of solace. If the man thought that solace could be gained by sitting besides someone else who was desperately concerned for the captain's welfare, then the doctor could sit where he liked.

McCoy was uncharacteristically silent. The marked absence of the doctor's usual colorful metaphors actually distracted Spock further. Spock had never thought that he would see the day he was not grateful for McCoy's silence. Like the doctor, the crew was silent. No one spoke. Each person was lost in their own reverie, their own nightmare of what was coming, or what had already occurred.

Spock wished somehow that one of them would start making idle chatter. The silence allowed too much room for thought.

_He heard again the breathy whimper. Heard the crack as Jim's nose broke. Saw the Captain's head snap back, the air blossom crimson with blood. _

Spock forced himself to breathe. _Focus_.

As the shuttle passed through the planets ionosphere and into open space, Spock watched the light pink of the planet's twilight fade into the bright azure and thence to black, alight with stars. He had another thought of remorse for the captain. Kirk always delighted in the transition, and had watched the colors change with the open, emotional face of a child. His eyes would glow as he stared open mouthed at the free expanse of space that called him home. The captain had been born in space, and it seemed to Spock that he was never truly comfortable anywhere else.

Spock glanced at the man beside him, wondering if the doctor was also recalling Kirk's innocent glee. But the doctor's head was bowed. The man stared at his hands. No emotion at all showed on the doctors features. The lost look on the medical officer's face reminded Spock a great deal of the way that he himself had looked about two years previous when Nero's attack had taken his mother.

Spock was about to loose another champion. Unless he could do something about it. He had to get the captain back.

True to their word, the three Klingon war birds kept station beside the Enterprise, unfiring. Spock could see the blazon scars of disruptor blasts against the ship's gleaming hull. The livid burns gave testimony to the ferocity of the battle; to have marks like that-the shields must have buckled. Commander Scott had been in command of the ship during the brief battle with the Klingons, and while he was an adequate commander, he was not James Kirk. But then Spock reflected to himself, only one man was. And that man might cease to be if he did not do something about it.

The birds of prey allowed the shuttle to pass without incident. As soon as the shuttle was in range, Spock had one of the crewman take over the piloting and had himself beamed aboard. He ran to the bridge.

"Lieutenant, raise Starfleet command. Now."

He snapped the command at her. Several members of the bridge crew turned to stare at him. He met their concerned glances with a glare. They were doubtless concerned. He had returned without the captain. He had snapped at the communications officer in a way that showed emotion. They knew what that was likely to mean. He took a deep breath. He needed to restore his center. He had to be calm for the discussion that was to come. He consciously relaxed his features as he felt his controls restore. Jim was always the force that undid him. But if he was to help the captain now.… Spock closed his eyes. He breathed. And again.

"Sir, I have Admiral Nogura."

"Onscreen."

The image of the yellow green planet dissolved to be replaced with the image of the Admiral. To Spock's eyes, the man looked both exhausted and annoyed.

"Yes, Commander, what can we do for you? Where's Jim?"

"Sir, I regret to inform you that Captain Kirk was taken prisoner by Klingon forces at 1100 hours." Spock quickly filled the Admiral in on the details of the diplomatic hoax. The man instantly looked alert. More consternation showed on his face than had been visible before.

The bridge was deathly they knew why their captain had not returned. He had offered himself in exchange for their safety. There was none among them who were truly surprised by the action. It was like the captain. Spock heard the doors swish open behind him, and assumed the doctor had rejoined them on the bridge.

The Admiral finally spoke. "He was all they wanted? They weren't after the _Enterprise_?"

"No, Sir. Only the captain."

"They set up that entire trap just to get Kirk." The admiral looked confused.

"Apparently so, sir."

"Why? What do they want with him?" The admiral sighed.

"Unknown, Admiral."

"Well, they can't be allowed to keep him."

Spock heard exhalations of relief from nearly every person present on the bridge.

The admiral continued, "I do not know what they want with him, but if they want him that badly, then we have to get him back. We cannot afford to lose him. For any other single individual…" The admiral trailed off, shaking his head. "But James Kirk." The admiral sighed again, lowering his forehead to his hand. Kirk's disappearance must have caused the Admiral considerable distress. It was unusual for someone so high in command to show any such weakness. Without looking up, the man spoke again. "Damn, Spock. You have to get him back."

Spock could not admit the relief that suffused him at the admiral's words. He had been afraid that he would be asked to assume command, and that he would be asked to leave the captain behind. He was gratified it was not the case. Spock knew that his loyalty his captain may have exceeded his loyalty to Starfleet. It was illogical, but it was true. He was glad he did not have to choose between them.

The Admiral looked up, and locked eyes with Spock. "Commander, I am authorizing you to use any and all means necessary to rescue your captain. I would prefer that you use stealth and diplomacy to force, but I am giving you permission to do either. I will confer with the rest of the admiralty, and we'll see who else we can send you. Just get him back, Spock. Get him back. Alive."

The final admonition was not one that anyone needed to hear. They would accept nothing less. Each of them individually owed James Kirk their lives. It was time that they repaid him.

The admiral signed off and left the crew of the USS Enterprise to their pessimistic thoughts.

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On the upside, I do not have cancer, which was a serious concern the last couple weeks. : ) Hooray! I celebrated by writing terrible angst. Hope you liked it. Please review, it makes me write faster when I know that people like it.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer. Didn't own them last week, don't own them this week.

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James Kirk woke to pain. For a few moments he was aware of nothing else. He could not focus. He could not breathe. He could not move either.

He forced himself to relax. To breathe.

His vision cleared slowly. He was still held by two of the Klingons, who it seemed were carrying him by his arms. Arms that were bound behind his back. And they weren't just bound by the wrists. His were tied at the elbows. No wonder he felt like he'd been stretched over a rack. At least there was a reason he couldn't move.

Right. Not good.

He continued his inventory.

His feet were dragging over the ground in a way that seemed to allow some give between them. So feet unbound. One plus.

That gave him two weapons.

The Klingons hadn't seemed to notice that he was awake. Second plus.

His breathing hadn't caused him any undue pain. So the ribs were likely just bruised. Not broken. Another plus. On the other hand, his face was on fire. His nose had to be broken. Shit. But he could breathe, so the situation was not as terrible as it could have been.

He consciously relaxed his neck and allowed his head to drift from side to side. Since the Klingons didn't appear to have noticed his wakefulness, he was not going to clue them in. It might be an advantage he could use. It had worked for him before.

Now how the hell was he going to get out of this?

Where were they taking him?

Had his crew made it back to the _Enterprise_ safely? Was Bones okay? Was Spock? He needed to know what was going on with his ship.

Too many questions assaulted his mind. He had to force himself again to breathe. Calm. Breathe. As he allowed his mind to still, he became more aware of his surroundings. From the red beige color of the dust and the smell of the dirt, he deduced that he was still on the little planet where the _Enterprise_ had dropped off the landing party. From the glare of the sun, he estimated he'd been unconscious for no more than an hour. Well that was good to know. So his ship was still in orbit. That was a good thing. Maybe they would follow the Klingons, or find some way to transport him off this rock.

He hoped he'd made it clear to Spock that he did not wish to be abandoned to his fate.

But Spock knew him pretty well now, and should know that. Actually Spock knew him better than any other being in the universe.

Kirk missed him.

It was easier to implement his crazy escape plans when he had someone to bounce his ideas off of.

Where in the hell were these Klingons taking him?

He'd been awake at least an hour now. And there was still no sign of imminent arrival at a destination. Then again, with his head down and lolling, there was little he would be aware of until they were right on top of it.

A few minutes later, one of the Klingons holding Kirk began to speak to its companion. Jim had been the treasurer of the Academy's xeno-linguistics club. While he was no Uhura, he could manage quite a few languages without a translator. Klingon was one of them.

"The Earther ought to have awoken by now." Hm…maybe he should be waking up soon, then. He did not want to make them suspicious.

"Theirs is a fragile species. Perhaps his skull is damaged." Okay, he could use that too.

The first Klingon laughed at that. "It would be a shame to have come so far to claim him only to lose him that way. Ka'tal would be most displeased." Ka'tal, was that the commander? The statement gave Kirk hope though. It implied they wanted him alive. For now at least.

Wherever they were going, they seemed to have nearly arrived. The Klingons were slowing their pace. Kirk risked a look through his veiled lashes. He was being taken to a bird of prey. So that meant the Klingons had four of them. They'd brought four ships to this mission. Four ships that they could not afford to have pulled from other duties. They must have wanted him badly.

But why?

Why him? Kirk didn't have any more top secret information than any other of the Federation starship captains-he didn't think. It wasn't like he was involved in covert ops or research and development or something. So kidnapping him would be hell of a lot harder than some other alternatives if they only wanted him for the information he could provide. Then that probably wasn't the reason.

It couldn't be because they wanted the _Enterprise_. Because they hadn't wanted her. They had said they only wanted him. And he'd kill himself before he gave up any of her information.

Shit, that meant it was personal.

Again.

If he could have risked it, he would have flicked his head and rolled his eyes.

Personal. Maybe he'd pissed off some lover or some husband. But Kirk couldn't remember having had sex with a Klingon. Well, not recently anyway. There had been that one time at the Academy… but that was nearly five years ago. So that probably wasn't it either. He was stuck on it being personal, but not knowing why it was personal.

On the orders of their commander, his two escort Klingons dropped him in the dirt. None too gently. He forced himself not to react. One of them prodded his ribs with a toe. Kirk remained limp and unresponsive. Perhaps they might grow complacent and leave him with fewer guards. It was the oldest trick in the book, but it might work. It was the oldest for a reason. It often worked.

They left two men to guard him. It would likely be his only chance.

Stretching his body, he exploded into action. He scissored his legs around one of his guard's knees and brought him down. The other Klingon was already turning, but Kirk was up and on his feet. Pulling his head down, he slammed into the chest of the second sentinel and brought him down as well. There was a brief tussle as they fell together, and Kirk felt one of his shoulders give out from the pressure of the bond that held his arms. He grunted in pain, but somehow wound up astride the other. Like lightening Kirk was on his feet and kicking the Klingon in the head.

He turned to face the first warrior who was advancing toward him warily.

He'd gotten lucky and he knew it.

Despite the restraint of his arms, he had recognized one small advantage. They didn't want to kill him. If they had, Kirk would've been dead already.

For one brief second, he considered running for it.

But that option wouldn't work. There were at least fourteen more of them. Klingons were stronger than humans and had greater stamina. They would catch him if this one sounded the alert. Plus, they had a ship. They could track him anywhere. There surely weren't any other human life signs on this planet.

The advancing man spoke to him in Federation standard. "You fight well, Kirk. You would have made an excellent Klingon."

"I happen to think I make an excellent human." Kirk smirked back at him.

The Klingon threw back his head and howled with mirth. Kirk winced. Surely someone on the ship would have heard that and would come out to investigate.

"You are as they said you would be." Kirk did not know what to think of the Klingon's comment, so he did not respond.

But at that moment, the Klingon lunged. Kirk sidestepped as the Klingon drove forward and missed. The Klingon growled and turned, but Kirk was already stepping forward to knee the man in the back. The guard grabbed him by the ribs and took him to the dirt, but Kirk was prepared for that and turning his body as he fell. While he didn't end up on top this time, neither was he completely on the bottom. He wrapped his right leg around the Klingon's left, dug his left heel into the earth and _pushed._ He was surprised to find himself on top again, the maneuver being more successful than he thought it would be. He lowered his head and drove it straight against the Klingon's eye socket. The impact made him see stars, but before he even allowed himself to contemplate how much of a bad idea it had been, Kirk drove his head into the momentarily stunned Klingon's other eye.

The Klingon went limp. Ha. Take that you bastards.

Kirk collapsed, panting against his aggressor's heavier form. The adrenaline fading, he realized he'd never felt this tired in his whole life.

He needed to get up. He needed to get away.

Kirk was climbing to his feet when he felt the disruptor press cold against his temple.

He stilled.

Beaten again. God, he hated these guys. It was the Klingon leader. Ka'tal, or whatever his name was.

"You are a most impressive fighter, Captain."

Kirk just glared back at the man. He'd been so close.

"Next time we shall bind your feet."

"I only promised I wouldn't try to escape when my people were under your power. Escape is the first duty of every captured Starfleet officer." He spat the words.

"Oh I had not forgotten, captain. I merely wished to see if you were as good as everyone said you were." Dammit, he'd been set up.

He put his trademark smirk in place. "Well, I hope I measured up."

The Klingon nodded slowly. "Indeed you did, captain. If anything rumors of your battle prowess underestimate you. You fight even when you should not." The Klingon nodded again.

"Yes, Kirk. I begin to see what is so special about you."

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I raised the rating because the violence will get hairy before the end. Hope you liked it. Please read and Review.


	5. Chapter 5

Well, I didn't own them the last four chapters, and still don't.

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They had taken James Kirk in broad daylight. In Federation Space. From a Federation planet. HOW?

Admiral Nogura was extremely displeased. He had just been starting to like Kirk. Despite their somewhat inauspicious start, the captain had proved himself. Time and time again. While the man still had a rebellious streak a mile wide, he could be counted upon to follow orders. Sometimes Kirk followed them under protest, but he followed them. Usually.

The press was going to have a field day.

Everyone loved Kirk. He had the highest approval rating of anyone in the Federation. And what was not to love? Local boy made good, saved planet? Kirk was the proverbial golden child of Starfleet, and now they'd lost him.

Spock just _had_ to get him back.

Nogura wondered what other ship to send. The _Enterprise_ could probably handle two of the Klingons, maybe three. No, check that. Kirk could handle three. He was just so damn inventive. Nogura didn't know of another captain with Kirk's ability. And that was the heart of the problem: to get Kirk out, he wanted someone like…well, Kirk.

Damn.

Nogura was pretty sure that Kirk would have taught his crew a trick or two. It was possible that Spock could do it alone. Kirk and Spock had wiggled out of tight spots before, with higher stakes than this, but never before had it hit the admiral so…personally.

Taking Kirk was like taking Neil Armstrong, or Charles Lindberg. It was kidnapping a hero. The man who'd saved Earth. Saved the Federation. It was taking a symbol. Why?

The captain never killed unless he had no choice, and he had saved more lives than he had taken, even in the Klingon Empire.

Kirk had pissed a lot of people off. The captain had a great many enemies but most of them respected him in a strange way. They wanted to meet and defeat him in battle.

It was like the Klingon Empire just wanted to demoralize the whole Federation.

And then it hit him. That was exactly what they wanted to do.

Nogura didn't know why, but that was the intended effect. It was the only thing that made any sense. To go to all that effort to take Kirk….

They were going to kill him.

Nogura was wrapped up in this train of thought when another thought hit him.

_Someone was going to have to tell Pike_.

And god, Nogura didn't want it to be him.

* * *

In the end, Nogura didn't have the heart to pass the buck. Pike loved that kid like a son, and Pike deserved to hear the news from his immediate superior. Hell, Pike was listed as the kid's emergency contact. Pike and Kirk's CMO were the only names on the list. Nogura wondered about that. Didn't Kirk have family? His mother was still alive….

As fate would have it, Pike was in his office when Nogura inquired if he was free. Damn. No possibility of just leaving a message for him.

Of course, a person is almost always free when the Admiral in charge of Starfleet command turns up at one's office. It occurred to Nogura that almost no one had been out when he'd called since he'd received this position.

Of course transmissions with Kirk frequently got lost in "subspace interference." But that was something Nogura liked about Kirk. He had _balls_.

Starfleet had no one else like him.

Pike was seated behind his desk, working on some paperwork when Nogura entered.

The younger man glanced up and stood immediately. Pike had healed pretty well from his encounter with the Romulan slug. He only needed a cane to walk now, but the encounter had turned his hair permanently gray.

Nogura waved him back down, and then paused, hesitating. He didn't know how to start this conversation. "Sit down, Chris."

Pike spoke first. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Chris, we need to talk-"

"Sir, that's the second time you've called me Chris. Not that you haven't earned the right, but what's wrong?" Yes, Pike had balls as well. He'd been the youngest captain in Starfleet history, until they'd promoted Kirk. No wonder the two got on so well.

"I don't know how to tell you this, Admiral Pike. I- I'm still reeling from it myself."

To admit such emotion in the face of an inferior was unheard of for Nogura. Pike's eyes flickered with concern and then steeled themselves.

The younger man's hazel eyes had gone cold. "Just tell me."

Nogura still couldn't find the words.

Pike nodded. "It's the _Enterprise_, isn't it? Something's wrong with her." Pike closed his eyes briefly.

"The ship is fine, Chris, as is most of her crew, but," Nogura trailed off. Why couldn't he just spit it out?

"But-?"

"Klingon's have taken Kirk."

Nogura watched the carefully constructed façade of control crack and shatter as it fell from Pike's face.

"What?" The voice was broken with disbelief.

"The Klingons have taken Kirk." He repeated himself.

"But …how? "

* * *

"But… how?" Pike heard the words. They came from his own mouth. But he couldn't focus, couldn't see. Oh God. Jim. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

Nogura's voice penetrated his haze. "…false pretenses. Diplomatic mission ended up being a hoax. They engineered the whole thing just to get to Kirk. His presence had been specifically requested for the colony's peace efforts, but the colony didn't exist. The Klingon's selected a planet with ion interference so they couldn't transport down and had to take a shuttle."

Pike's brain took over, as he thought about how he would best corner his protégé. "They pinned the landing party, and then threatened the Enterprise, didn't they?" Nogura looked up at him sharply as Pike continued. "I'm guessing three, maybe four war birds would have been needed."

Nogura nodded. "Spock said three against the ship, with presumably another on the ground."

Pike nodded. "Since it was a diplomatic mission, Spock would have gone with Jim. Maybe McCoy also. That would have put either Scott or Sulu in command."

"Scott. And while he's not terrible…he's not –"

Pike grunted. "He's not Kirk. Nobody is."

Nogura nodded. They were quiet for a moment. Pike drowned in the enormity of the loss. Not Jim. And then he pulled himself together. "Kirk's down there with a small away team, mostly diplomacy trained, and few security. And his two best friends. So all the Klingon's have to do is concentrate fire on the red shirts and avoid hitting the gold one. That'd leave Kirk with maybe three people in the group, counting himself, that can shoot worth a damn."

Pike's throat went dry as he finished imagining the scenario. Kirk had probably gone willingly. He'd do nearly anything to keep his people safe. Pike had taught him well.

Pike shook his head and lowered it to his palm. Damn. Damn. Damn.

Chris steeled himself and asked the question he'd been dreading. "Do we know yet what they're gonna do with Jim?"

"No."

Pike looked at Nogura sharply. "But you have suspicions. Sir." The sir was late, tacked on as an afterthought.

Nogura waved it off.

"I do, Chris. I do. I think they're gonna kill him. Make an example, you know." Nogura didn't quite meet his eyes that time.

"An example of what? What happens when someone pisses off the Empire?" Pike heard his own rising fury. The disbelief was giving way to something much, much darker. Pike felt the beast within himself rising, ready to strike. He looked down surprised to see that he was on his feet.

"Breathe, Chris."

Pike settled, and sat down. He could feel his fingernails gouging into the desk.

"I'm not certain. It's just a theory."

Pike nodded. With his blind fury evaporated for the present, he had an overwhelming headache.

"What are we going to do?"

"I authorized Spock to take whatever measures necessary to retrieve Kirk."

"But with all due respect, sir, if there are four war birds, then the _Enterprise_ will need some help."

"I know that, Chris."

"I'm going."

Nogura nodded. "I know. He's your cub."

Pike smiled, despite himself, not sure if he should take offense to the comment.

"Admiral, we have to keep this quiet-for now. If we want to get him back...."

"I agree. There will be no mention in the press or the briefings. Keep this as need to know as possible." Nogura's eyes were distant. "If you leave now, you can catch the _Calypso _before she heads out. Its your mission."

Pike was already standing. He was up and out the door before Nogura could call him back.

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AN: Please read and review. Reviews are my crack. We'll get back to Kirk in the next one, which should be out soon, cause I've already started it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer.** In the words of Barlett:"I have gathered a posy of other men's flowers and nothing but the thread that binds them is mine own." I think that's clear enough.

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**Slight warning.** For those of you that have been waiting for it, there are more allusions to slash in this, but nothing is overt. And there is more hurt!Jim in this chapter.

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This is dedicated to **Sethnakht**, my lovely beta, who has not gotten to beta this because she is very sick. Here's a feeling better pressie.

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And now...on with the show.

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Kirk was royally bored. He couldn't move. They had bound his legs this time. The Klingons weren't taking any chances after the stunt he'd pulled earlier. He was bound to his seat; his leg restraints attached to both the floor and the chair. It seemed to have been specially modified.

Possibly for him.

God how long had they been planning this? And what the hell did they want with him, if not the Enterprise?

Just Jim Kirk. Well Kirk had never thought much of just Jim Kirk. And he still didn't get what they wanted with him.

The Klingon Ka'tal had checked his bonds personally.

His arms were still bound, but they had at least bound them in front of him this time. Which was nice. It gave him the possibility of using his hands, in the future, although when they had removed his hands from behind him, his left shoulder had screamed in protest at the movement. The pain had blinded him for a moment. So the shoulder was dislocated then. Plus the broken nose and the broken fingers. And God only knew what state his ribs were in.

That officially made it the worst he'd felt since he got back from Tarsus.

But then, nothing could compare to that.

Nothing.

This was a cake walk compared to that. And despite the illogic of the sentiment, it calmed him. He'd survived that. He'd survive this.

He felt bad, sure, but he had been more badly injured before. He just wasn't used to being conscious for it. Bones always knocked him out.

He was sure that the broken nose was causing his eyes to blacken. It had to be. He'd broken some major blood vessels in his face; Kirk could tell that by the way that his nose kept bleeding periodically. There was blood all down his shirt front. Blood dripped periodically into his right eye from a cut on his brow. It was more frustrating than painful because he couldn't simply wipe the blood away. He had to make due with trying to blink it from his eyes.

He must look a mess. Damn. And he'd been trying to look attractive lately. Not that Spock seemed to have noticed. Kirk had been thinking lately that he might like to be more than friends with Spock, but he was afraid of saying anything. He couldn't afford to lose the Vulcan's friendship. It had been hard won.

And he really couldn't afford to lose his first officer's respect.

But if he could work up the balls and Spock didn't reject him outright…. It could be so freaking amazing. Kirk had never had a lover that _knew_ him before.

Damn. Back to the same old argument. It wasn't helping his situation either. Kirk decided to put that problem on hold for now. Again.

The worst part about being tied to the chair was the Klingons had bound his neck to the seat. Kirk only had room to move his head about thirty degrees in any direction.

Damned annoying, actually.

It did, however, have enough give to allow him to slam his head in the headrest, which made a loud slapping noise. It didn't hurt, per say, and it seemed to annoy the Klingons. Which was more than enough reason to keep it up.

An annoyed enemy made more frequent mistakes. And in the absence of a more useful plan, it would suffice.

_Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap—_

Kirk was just about to slap his head for the fifth time when someone grabbed him by the hair.

It was the Klingon leader, Ka'tal again. _God, wasn't this guy _ever_ on the bridge?_

"Cease," the Klingon said. In English. That meant that they didn't yet know he could speak Klingon. Good.

"No," he replied. He was enjoying the slapping. It was something he could control. He slammed his head against the seat rest again.

The fingers tightened in his hair. "You will cease, Captain Kirk, or I will knock you unconscious again." That was likely not an idle threat.

Kirk decided to stop for now.

The Klingon took a seat beside him and looked at Kirk with understanding on his features. "You are restless, Captain."

Kirk only glared back.

The Klingon laughed. "We have a nickname for you, you know."

Kirk did not know.

His expression must have showed interest, because the Klingon nodded before continuing. "My people call you 'Fearless,' captain. Of any Federation captain, you are the one that we wish most to fight. Would that I could face you now, ship to ship."

The Klingon stopped abruptly, realizing he had revealed perhaps more than he should have. Kirk filed that thought away for later. But for a moment before Ka'tal had interrupted himself, he'd looked…wistful.

Kirk could play that.

"You could face me now. Hand to hand," Kirk said. He put on his most daring, arrogant smirk. It was an expression that had always annoyed the hell out of Christopher Pike.

"I think not, captain. I am…tempted of course, but you would be no match for me." The Klingon smiled at him then, regret evident in his tone.

"Oh I think I could be." Kirk damn well knew he could a match for any one Klingon. He'd taught advanced Klingon hand-to-hand combat for nearly three years at the academy. Klingons were stronger, sure, but Kirk was fast. There was only one person who had ever bested him in a one-on-one fight.

No.

Kirk would not allow himself to think of Spock now. And when had he started getting sentimental over getting beaten up?

Maybe he was going senile.

Yeah, well you did fall in love with a Vulcan, his inner monologue supplied. It sounded remarkably like Bones. Weird. And a little disturbing….

Well, at least it wasn't Spock's voice. That would be way too weird. _And love...? What? _

Kirk shook himself back to the present.

"Come on," he egged. "You know you wanna spar with me."

The Klingon's eyes glinted. "Indeed I do, Captain, but I cannot risk your death."

"No confidence in your skills, huh? Didn't really figure you for a coward." He spat the words like weapons. Kirk knew he was pushing his luck, but he was angry and frustrated and bored, and he just wanted to do…something.

The Klingon exploded from his chair. Ka'tal had some sort of blade at Kirk's throat before Kirk had even realized the Klingon had drawn one.

_Interesting_. The Klingon was fast. Very fast. It would be a good match then, if they were to fight.

Kirk would have to work to win.

The other's eyes blazed in anger. "I am not a coward, captain. Like you, I follow orders. I am to deliver you, alive, to--" He stopped. And smiled.

Ka'tal had not withdrawn his blade. It rested, point first against the hollow of Kirk's neck, just hard enough to break the skin.

"Oh very good, Kirk, very good. You will go alive to my superiors. And then we will see. But you will not call me coward again." He pressed the point home by increasing the pressure on his knife.

Damn. Ka'tal was touchy.

Sort of reminded Kirk of Spock, when they'd first met. In a way.

But Kirk wasn't one to back down. He held the Klingon's gaze without flinching, glaring with all he had.

And then because it tended to throw people, he raised an eyebrow without breaking eye contact. It was a trick he'd learned from Spock.

And it was only a small victory, but the Klingon looked away first.

* * *

Please read and review.

In case you don't know what Tarsus is, in TOS it was the sight of a horrendous massacre. Jim was there when he was fourteen. Check it out at memory alpha.

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Sorry its a bit short, I've not been feeling up to writing. Also I got a live journal. Hooray. Its under this same name. But I don't know how to work it yet. I'm not yet able to post on it, so if anyone is familiar and wants to give me suggestions that would just be awesome. For that matter, I don't know how to hotlink on ff. So if anyone has that down, please message me also.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer.** In the words of Barlett:"I have gathered a posy of other men's flowers and nothing but the thread that binds them is mine own." I think that's clear enough.

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This one is for **Junesun**. For the nicest review ever. Thanks, that was awesome. I squeezed it in during my lunch break.

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Wherever they were going, they were making good time.

Judging from the vibrations of his chair, Kirk estimated the speed of the Klingon ship to be at warp six. That was interesting. It was the top speed the Enterprise could make without straining any either the engines or any extraneous systems. He wondered if the Klingons meant his ship to follow.

He sure as _hell _hoped not.

He would be super pissed if something happened to his girl.

Kirk wondered if Spock would follow. Would the _Enterprise_ be able to follow? What was going on with the other three war birds? As far as Kirk knew, they weren't keeping station with the ship he was on.

But then, he knew very little. Since Kirk's encounter with angering Ka'tal the Klingon had made himself scarce. No wonder, after that confrontation. Kirk smirked. But then his face fell. No one had talked to Kirk in what felt like hours, so he had little sense of anything. He was incredibly bored.

All he knew was that wherever they were going, they were going there fast.

Interesting.

Kirk guessed they'd been traveling for at least a day.

He wracked his mind to remember all the star systems through which they could currently be passing, but then he let it go as an exercise in futility. He would be able to guess better when the ship dropped from warp. Because that way he'd have an idea of how they would've come from where they were.

If they stopped right now, there were only five star systems that could be reached at this speed. Only three had class M planets. So that narrowed it down a bit.

Where were they going? And what did they want with him?

The same unanswerable questions swam in his mind.

He guessed he would just have to wait until they got there. Wherever there was.

Kirk hated waiting.

If he had been on the _Enterprise_, he would have been pacing the bridge. The movement kept him calm. Bones liked to complain that Jim couldn't sit patiently for anything. It was true.

He couldn't.

The captivity was wearing on him. He wanted desperately to just explode out of his chair and to hit something.

A smart strategist would be either be plotting escape or using the time alone to sleep and reserve their strength.

Kirk had tried sleeping. It had sucked.

He had no sooner closed his eyes than they popped open again, alerted by some strange sound on the alien vessel.

It smelled funny in here.

Might be the Klingon food. _Hmmm_. Come to think on it, they hadn't fed him. But they were supposed to keep him alive. That meant they couldn't be too far from wherever they were going. Good.

So down to three systems then. Maybe. That was good.

Spock could find him with only three systems. Kirk's faith in his first officer was such that he thought that Spock could find anything anywhere, if he only put his mind to it.

Kirk grinned to himself.

He was not going to allow himself to despair. Not yet.

There was hope.

Kirk returned to bagging his head against the head rest. Maybe he could annoy someone into coming out to stop him.

* * *

James Kirk had been missing for twenty-five hours. Twenty-five of the longest hours of Spock's life. Spock imagined that he had not been this ….disconcerted since the implosion of his home planet.

He was not nervous. Nor was he worried. Spock was not experiencing either emotion. Nor was he experiencing any other emotion that he would admit to.

Spock was simply…disconcerted.

It seemed the appropriate word for the way he felt.

He did not like sitting in the captain's chair. It was without a doubt, a comfortable chair. In his mind, it had become, however illogically, not the captain's chair, but Jim's chair, and Spock did not appreciate the experience of sitting in it.

He wished the captain were back and seated here. There was much he wished.

But now was not the appropriate time for that.

A second terse communication with Admiral Nogura had confirmed that reinforcements were on the way to support the crew of the _Enterprise_ in the undertaking of the rescue of their captain.

Starfleet was sending Admiral Pike as well as the _Calypso_.

If Spock were to admit to any feelings on the matter, it would have been to a sense of relief. The face of Christopher Pike would be a welcome one. He knew the crew of the flagship, and he both understood and sympathized with their reaction to their captain. Jim mattered deeply to Pike.

Spock was gratified that Starfleet command had not sent someone unfamiliar with James Kirk. It would be difficult to explain the open hostility of the crew to anyone else attempting to sit in the command seat. While the crew of the _Enterprise_ was welcoming under normal circumstances, it could be very protective against perceived threat or insult to its captain. And no one would aboard would accept anything less than the complete retrieval of the captain.

But Spock doubted the bridge crew would glare at Christopher Pike. They had all served under him before, and trusted his abilities to lead. Spock likewise welcomed the Admiral's imminent arrival.

Spock was nervous that his concern for Jim might be rendering him unfit for command due to emotional compromise.

He hoped that was not the case. Spock was going to find the other man if it was the last thing he did.

Kirk had always been able to affect him when others were not. Spock truly did not know how the captain did it. Surely it could not be intentional.

But every time the captain acted he inspired some sort of emotional response in Spock, whether positive or negative. Spock thought that in the two years he had spent under Kirk's command, he had experienced a greater range of emotions than he had in the rest of his twenty seven solar years.

For some reason also, it was Kirk's eyes that affected him most strongly.

They were such an impossible color.

Spock had never seen another being with eyes the same color as Jim's. Sometimes Spock wondered if they were that color because of some strange effect of the trauma surrounding the captain's birth. Perhaps intermittent ion radiation surges from the _Narada's _shields had somehow affected the baby's ocular development. Whatever the reason, Spock was fascinated with the eyes of Jim Kirk.

He had heard it said of humans that eyes were the windows to their souls. That was often true of the captain. Especially when the man was pleased. However, when the man was displeased, it was frequently untrue. When James Kirk wanted to, he could hide his emotions from all but those who knew him infinitely well.

Spock found it ironic that the mask of logic he himself had worked so hard to create was something he did not like to see upon his captain's face. When Spock had first encountered Kirk, he had thought him too expressive, too uncontrolled. And now, when Spock saw control upon his captain's features, it was the first officer's clue to speak to the captain about what was so terribly troubling the other man.

Everything about the captain was …_illogical_.

Ironic, also.

The captain would have been pleased to hear it. Kirk could regard such sentiments as a compliment. An image of the captain's smile appeared clearly in the first officer's mind.

But that brought to mind the last time Spock had seen Kirk.

_Limp in the Klingon's arms. Covered in blood. So very, very red. Nearly unrecognizable_.

Spock's chest seized. For a moment, he wondered if he was having a heart attack.

How. How could one man affect him so utterly?

Spock could not await for Admiral Pike to arrive. He needed to mediate, to regain his controls. Then he could focus more properly upon retrieving his captain, and dispel these circular thoughts.

* * *

Just a quick update, which I wrote over lunch. Just so you know, this speed of writing turnaround is very atypical of me, so please do not expect it often. But I hope you liked it. Review it for me if you did. I write faster when I feel like you want to read more.

PS...**Secret Thought**. Thank you so very much. I cannot tell you how much it meant to me.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey. I'm back. I've got the next four chapters already written, and I just have to type them up and post them, so there will not be another large writing hiatus. Sorry about that.

This is still slash (mild) and I still don't own it.

* * *

Kirk had narrowed the Warbird's trajectory to one of three solar systems, all of which were within a solar day of Ampara, the planet he had been taken from. Ampara was near the edge of the neutral zone, and as such had long been prized by the Federation for its strategic importance. When the message had come (ostensibly) from the Amparan parliament, that they wanted to negotiate with the Federation, Starfleet had jumped at the chance. They had sent the Enterprise, the flagship, wanting to make an impression on the fledgling world.

But it turned out that all the pomp and circumstance had been for nought.

There had been no diplomatic envoy, no treaties to sign, and Kirk had ruined yet another dress uniform shirt.

He had the highest uniform budget of any member of the crew.

Kirk wondered where they were taking him, and why they were bothering with restraints when they could simply have stunned him or sedated him. Or killed him, for that matter.

The restraints just seemed superfluous.

What the hell did they want with him?

His avenues for escape thus far did not look good. The only part of his body he could move with any success was his head. And he couldn't move _that_ very far. His best hope lay in rescue.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time that Spock had to get him out of a jam.

The thought of his first officer brought a momentary pang to his chest. He wished he'd told the other man how he felt about him. Because now, he might never have the chance.

As he busied his head with melancholy thoughts, Kirk noticed that activity seemed to be picking up among the Klingon crew. That could only mean...

Kirk closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling the shudder of the ship beneath his seat. Sure enough, she was slowing down. Warp one, probably.

Interesting.

That meant the ship had to have a slow approach. That knocked off one of the possible destinations of the warbird.

Even as he concentrated, he felt the ship fall from warp to impulse. So they'd be landing soon.

They had reached their destination.

He opened his eyes to analyze the condition of the crew. Was it his imagination or were many of them ...cleaner than earlier?

No, it definitely wasn't his imagination.

Many of them were wearing more ornate uniforms, and more decorations than they had previously. They seemed to be putting some work into their appearance. It was odd; he couldn't think of any reason why the Klingons would need to clean themselves up.

It was...disconcerting to watch.

One of them approached Kirk with a strip of cloth.

Oh, hell no.

He fought as much as his restraints allowed him, which wasn't much. He ended up with a gag and a blindfold for his trouble. So they were taking him somewhere.

This meant that someone was going to have to release him from his safety harness and unbind his legs. He tensed, aware that it might be the only opportunity he would have.

But they must have anticipated him, because even as he tensed, he felt the paralyzing affects of a phaser stun, and then...nothing.

* * *

He came to with a hell of a headache. God, he hated being stunned. He was bound again. This time, though, he'd been thrown, fireman style, over the shoulder of one of his burlier captors. With the Klingon's every step, Kirk's head swung back and forth, causing his pain to flare.

Kirk struggled a bit, attempting to shake fuzziness from his head, and the Klingon holding him nearly lost his grip. For his pains, Kirk received a sharp blow to the back of the head.

"You will cease your struggling, captain, if you wish to remain in any way conscious for these proceedings." It sounded like Katal had spoken, but Kirk couldn't be quite sure.

He tried to count the steps of the man carrying him, but he could not. The movement made him nauseous, and the repeating banging of his face into the Klingon's back started his nose bleeding again.

The blood ran up his nose and into his mouth and he tried desperately to spit around the gag, but couldn't.

He flailed in desperation; this wasn't how he wanted to die, drowning in his own blood over a Klingon's back. His vision faded to black at the edges as he fought to stay conscious.

At last, he felt himself being lowered to the dirt, vaguely recognizing that someone must have realized his distress was genuine. The last thought he had before he blacked out was that whoever it was had noticed it too late.

Kirk's next thought was that he must have been awake for sometime before he realized that he was. He was once again swaying blindfolded over the back of the Klingon but his gag had been removed.

It was a huge plus.

He heard someone speaking, and it was a moment before his brain registered the fact that the language was Klingon.

"-very late. She expected you an hour ago." Someone was saying.

"It's not our fault. The human is more frail than we realized." Kirk was momentarily incensed. Frail? FRAIL? Oh, he'd show them frail.

"Bring him in. She's been waiting too long already."

So this was it.

Kirk felt his captor walk several paces forward and up a ramp. The air quality changed. Another ship, perhaps?

Then he was dropped without ceremony where his head hit the floor with a heavy thud. He heard it crack off the tiles, and was just thinking that the Klingons might have a point about the frailty of the human skull as he slipped into unconsciousness.


End file.
